Glades of Edenlair
by Knightmaremist
Summary: This story is actually based on the TCOR book by Alan Dean Foster. Riddick discovers more of his destiny after securing lordship over the Necromongers.


  
  
This story, although a fan fiction inspired by the Riddick character and its storyline, among others, represents some of my dearest beliefs with which I've struggled since childhood. Chronicles of Riddick is the kind of tale that literally makes my heart leap, because it clearly tells me that its creator shares the same mindset as I. When it comes to the deepest questions of the universe's mysteries, and I happen upon another visionary who dares to interpret what those mysteries might be, I feel an instant kinship and desire to create works on that person's behalf. One such individual is Vin Diesel, and there has been only one other writer in my lifetime who even comes close to touching my heart in the matter that the creation of Richard Riddick has. But not even The Stand ventures to explore the territory that Chronicles has covered. I do not fully understand my own compulsion and overwhelming desire to be among the ranks of those asked to write Riddick as part of a profession. I just know that, beyond everything else, it is something I am meant to do... something I need to do. This story is only a portion of an epic I have brewing in my mind. Since I care so very much about it, I'm interested in how the powers that be feel. Should I continue it, or abandon this aspect of my life's dream? This is part of my legacy to the world here, and I dedicate it to you, Vin, with all my heart.  
  
Disclaimer: I own only the characters I have created. Vin Diesel and/or Universal Pictures, George Lucas, and J.R.R. Tolkien own the other characters/concepts. This story has been written for enjoyment purposes and to hopefully, on a wing and a prayer, get me a job doing what I'm dying to do (if somebody will just pay attention to it). I have not been nor do not expect to be financially compensated for this particular story; it's a living resume.  
  
Rating: PG-13 Inspired by The Chronicles of Riddick (novel), Star Wars: Episode II, Lord of the Rings  
  
No Mary Sues, no smut. Just story... Vin, this is what you inspired me to create.  
  
In the beginning, God made the heavens and the earth. Seas gave rise to lands, darkness to light, emptiness to existence, and in the end, God said it was good. He said the dead shall rise from the grave in the last days. He promised that the saved would enter the kingdom of heaven, and be granted eternal life. Ever wonder where that kingdom was? For countless centuries, mortal man has equated the afterlife with the sky, the clouds, the horizon... up and beyond what could be seen from the floor of our beloved floating rock in space. As it turns out, mortal man was right...  
  
Read between the lines and "under the 'verse";  
  
there is more than one Moses, in every universe.  
  
GLADES OF EDENLAIR  
  
L. Misty Miller

In those days when the earth was young, but time still old, there were scattered about the universe twelve distinctive rhunestones, upon various planets in many worlds. Whoever collected all twelve was issued the key to the solar system dubbed the Fountain of Life... Edenlair in the common tongue. Whoever mastered the key... also gained sanction over the Guardian of the Gate... the most treasured of all beings. It remains a standing hope that the one who is named Master of Keys, possesses not a perfect soul, but a flawed one that strives for immortal redemption... a soul that can recognize the light, as it was born unto and lived inside darkness. What better weaponry with which to fight evil, than one who is so familiar with its ways?  
  
The Calling of the Stones   
  
Upon the Nexus planet, known as Earth, her ancient people had left certain markers. They were placed and etched, forged upon Southern England's Salisbury Plain. These crude but elegant rocky glyphs had baffled mankind for centuries. Her ancestors having inbred and scattered to the wind, the true secrets of these markers remained unknown, until the time of the immortals had met its dawn... when they began to call forth the stones. As it were, the Stonehenge served as an astral map that divined stellar locations in space... worlds undiscovered, where awaited the twelve rhunestones of Edenlair's future Master of Keys. He just didn't know it yet.  
  
After slaying the one who held countless of innocents' souls hostage, and bringing them forth across the Threshold (the galactic River Jordan), he was certain he'd found his destiny and that his work had been completed. But then, the stones called him. They called for the Lord Marshal. They knew of his destiny before even he did. Such has always been the way.  
  
Episode ?: In the following story, the new Lord Marshal has collected ten of the twelve stones, having been drawn to each via an inexplicable compulsion to obtain them. Magi have been of little assistance in divining the ancient prophecy of the stones, for none can speak the eldest language in universal existence... none, but her people. The Druids.  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
One   
**  
The Centauri made dock on Alpha 5 in the Vega System shortly before dawn. The chancellor and ambassador had a specific assignment... negotiate a treaty between Lira and Omega 2 that would open the free communication lines once again. Since Lira had cut off all non-military transmissions with her neighbor planet O2, the commerce of much needed trade had come to a crushing standstill. It was only via special grant that Alpha 5, the agreed upon neutral planet, allowed the Centauri passage into its atmosphere without incident. Strange times were afoot and they called for skilled negotiations.  
  
Chancellor Hannilee (Heni) Grenroix was the first to step off the ramp, having calmly paraded downward, dragging her elegant white overcoat's train behind, her golden locks so delicately framing her pale face, soft pink lips, shimmering blue eyes, and blush cheeks. She resembled a porcelain doll. She wore no smile upon her face, and yet, even inside her stern presentation, she conveyed such a girth of warmth and emotional balance.  
  
Behind her was the ambassador Ambrosia Drimes, also with pale skin and striking facial features. Her hair was long and black, her eyes a glowing green. She wore a silver overcoat. She appeared a bit younger than the chancellor. Her expression was one of faint smugness. She was clearly still under the spell of the invincibility of youth.  
  
Heni turned toward Brosia in an abrupt manner as they stepped off the ramp, their boots meeting the soft terrain of Alpha 5.  
  
"Remember, my bold interness, you represent the planet Dru in this matter, not yourself. If there is even a mention of war, assert emphatically that you shall not condone such a course of action," Heni instructed.  
  
"Of course, Chancellor," Brosia flippantly retorted under her breath. "But Chancellor, what if they mention the two stones in our keepsake? What am I to say then?" she challenged passively, as they strode in step toward the Alpha Federation's headquarters.  
  
"Hope to God they don't mention them, and if they do, that is when you draw your weapons, pray they don't have blasters," Heni replied with a measure of assurance.  
  
"Good God, Hannilee, they're a Federation building. Think for a bloody moment they won't have an artillery just waiting for us?" Brosia scoffed.  
  
"My young apprentice, you've much yet to learn in the ways of people, in particular, political negotiations," Heni snapped on target.  
  
"You're always saying that to me. You assume I'm just some ignorant novice who's been handed a job..." Brosia argued.  
  
"I assume no such thing, Ambrosia. It is you who assumes," Heni replied cryptically. She was so very adept at that. At times it made the Druid ambassador insane.  
  
"Fine, then. Draw the spades only if they make mention of the stones," Brosia clarified with forced nonchalance.  
  
Heni chuckled. "Now you're just humoring an old witch," she balked.  
  
"Well, age before wisdom," Brosia taunted. "Must be why you insist upon always walking ahead of me."  
  
"Do try and control that cutting wit when we enter the headquarters," Heni snapped caustically.  
  
Ambrosia snickered under her breath. "Anything for you, Chancellor. Just remember who's the one can vanquish an army of men with a few flicks of a spade, faster than lightning," she cooed triumphantly.  
  
"How can I forget when you constantly remind me of your trifling, barbaric victories?" Heni sighed regretfully. "I swear, you'll be the death of me."  
  
_(Can we say Obiwan and Annakin? LOL)  
_  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Two   
**  
The Alpha Federation's headquarters was a building of smooth white stone, not particularly grandiose in nature, but it served its people well. The grand proprietor himself was waiting at the exterior gate. Heni stopped in her tracks and gasped a moment when she saw him. Having corresponded with this gentlemen in the past, only via satellite transmission, she hadn't realized just how much in fact he did resemble... him.  
  
"He looks so very much like him," the chancellor Grenroix mused quietly to herself.  
  
He was quite the handsome chap, especially in those royal navy blue robes of his. He extended his hands outward, smiling cordially at both women.  
  
"Whom does he look like?" Ambassador Drimes whispered, thinking her mentor's behavior a tad strange.  
  
"Someone from my past, Ambrosia. It doesn't matter," Heni replied skeptically. "If you must know, because I know you'll not let up about it, he reminds me very much of Vaako." Hannilee's voice had tightened and her manner grown somewhat cold.  
  
"Oh," was Brosia's stiff reply, having realized the magnitude of Heni's words. "Yes, I... I have heard of him," she added conversationally.  
  
By then, the ladies had reached the grand proprietor's scope of earshot. They plastered somewhat fake smiles upon their lips. Begrudgingly, Brosia allowed her mentor to assume the lead in this... for now.  
  
"Proprietor Califiore," Heni spoke warmly, taking his outstretched hands.  
  
The man bowed his head slightly, then cocked quite a friendly smile at her. "Please, dear Chancellor. If it suits you... Benedicto is what my friends call me, and, under more intimate circumstances... Ben," he greeted kindly. Heni immediately began to blush and Brosia scoffed quietly as she watched Ben kiss the trembling hand of her prim mentor.  
  
"Just what kind of discussions have you had with this man?" Brosia cajoled knowingly.  
  
Heni shot Brosia a literal look of fury and elbowed the young apprentice slightly. The chancellor laughed a nervous giggle. "Ambrosia," she scolded. Then she faced the proprietor again. "You'll have to forgive my interness. She has a nasty habit of speaking before she thinks," Heni apologized.  
  
Brosia moved to speak in protest, but Ben beat her to the punch. He simply widened his smile and chuckled. He extended his hand to take the young Druid's. "Nonsense, Femme Grenroix. I find a politician who actually speaks her candid mind, quite refreshing. This must be the lady Ambrosia Drimes," he assuaged peacefully.  
  
"Proprietor," Brosia resounded, some playful salt in her tambour.  
  
Benedicto held both ladies' hands to the wind. "Shall we, then?" he motioned.  
  
The three turned and began their slight ascent into the building proper. The halls inside were of marble and quite elegant. Many mirrors adorned them. Their footsteps echoed with a ring as they strode casually up the long corridor. Ben was leading the way, of course, with the two women behind, side by side.  
  
Brosia was laughing to herself silently. Heni again elbowed her and hissed for her to knock it off.  
  
"I do believe my mentor is smitten," Brosia whispered tormentingly, still chuckling softly.  
  
"Oh, shut up," Heni spat raspily, eyeing the handsome proprietor's posterior profile as he swaggered.  
  
Brosia raised her brows and stuck out her tongue at her mentor. She was enjoying her faltering moment all too much. Brosia couldn't help but giggle out loud.  
  
Ben chose to ignore whatever was happening behind him. His Hannilee had warned him of Ambrosia's playfulness. He smiled to himself, thinking of how truly beautiful the chancellor was in person. He felt as though he were a lucky man to be graced with such an angelic presence. He began to drone on about the negotiations, figuring they should get to the point.  
  
"Ladies, I will tell you that the Lirans are refusing to budge. They claim that Omega 2 has knowledge of something the Lirans greatly need. I'm afraid to report it has come to a stalemate, and if these negotiations fail, Omega 2 will be on the brink of war with Lira, and I'll not have that in my jurisdiction. Vega is such a young System... even younger than the galaxy we call the Nexus... or, Milky Way in the common tongue. You understand my urgency," he spoke.  
  
"Are you Liran or Omegan?" Brosia piped up, before Heni could smack her on the arm.  
  
Ben chuckled. "I am neither, my lady. I am Alphaloid. My people were the original colonists of the Vega System. In fact, although we are younger than Earth, we are the ones who established contact with them through their program called SETI," Ben further explained. "Oh, what a glorious day it was for their scientists to finally receive confirmation that alien life once existed upon their treasured terrain. They were at first so very paranoid... something about their government lying to them over a... Roswell incident," he blathered. "Can you imagine, an entire government unit being untruthful?" he balked.  
  
"Unfortunately, Benedicto, such things I do have vast knowledge of," Heni lamented. "Would you believe my planet and species were named after some concept conceived by an earthen madman of their Twentieth Century? I am nearly abashed to call myself an Aryan because of it. This Hitler character was supposedly trying to wipe out the ancient race of Moses the Great! Can you imagine... one man thinking he could destroy an entire race?" But then Heni realized her choice of words. It brought her back to what she knew of Vaako, and how he had also attempted to obliterate the last Furyan, not to mention the former Lord Marshal, who'd launched a veritable Slaughter of the Innocents on Furya.  
  
Brosia stopped suddenly, shifting her eyes about. It was clear to Heni that the Druid had caught wind of something amiss.  
  
"What is it?" Heni whispered.  
  
"We are not alone," Brosia warned quietly. But Brosia had no sooner spoken, than when the intruders launched their attack from behind. They literally appeared out of thin air and attempted to tackle the ladies, but Brosia's hands and senses were quick. She'd already drawn her dual spades from inside her coat and was wielding both in her usual mechanical but very skilled fashion. "Duck!" she screamed to Heni, who simply backed up into the arms of one Benedicto Califiore.  
  
After Brosia had severed the heads of the two attackers, their blood spurting forth as their limp bodies collided with the ground, two more appeared out of nowhere to take the others' places. Heni gasped. She knew what they were... what they had to be... only animorphs could cloak and slink about undetected before the naked eye.  
  
"They're Liran mercenaries!" Heni shouted. "God knows how many there are!"  
  
"Fear not. They're old friends," Ben spoke sarcastically, brandishing dual blasters at his sides as he stood to cover the fair Hannilee. Brosia stepped aside, no warning necessary, for she felt Ben's movements behind her. She stooped as though she were an animal preparing to pounce. Then she quickly launched her body upward into a somersault, landing behind the animorphs.  
  
"Hello, boys!" she purred menacingly. The Lirans both jumped, visibly startled.  
  
"Huh?" one of them grumbled.  
  
But that was all he could get out, for the head of the elegant deciplatinum spade was hurled violently, ruthlessly into his stomach, which split open, completely eviscerated with one fell stroke by the Druid. He collapsed on the ground, lifeless. Having seen this, the other Liran screamed in fear and began to run off, with Brosia close on his heels. He quickened his pace, but he was no match for the Druid, who literally leapt ferociously toward him, pouncing on her haunches like a wild tigress. She used the walls as leverage... nimble and fearless as a svelte minx. She landed in front of the Liran, fire in her mystical eyes.  
  
"Wanna scream like a bitch? Then you must BE one!" Brosia fumed, hurling one spade clean into his testicles and the other across his throat. The animorph's head flew clear across the spacious marble room, and landed in Heni's hands. She began to scream bloody murder, tossing up the head and running down the hall.  
  
Two more Lirans emerged out of nothingness before Benedicto. He blasted them madly upon sight, wailing an Alphaloid battle cry to wake the dead. Two more came in their places. By then, Brosia had reached the proprietor and jumped past him, behind the invisible portal the Lirans seemed to be using. She took them by their shoulders and violently banged their heads together like cymbals, allowing easy purchase for Ben to finish them off with a spinning crescent kick to their skulls. They fell together like dominoes.  
  
Ben and Brosia jumped into defensive stances, waiting for the next set to arrive through the portal. Their breathing was rapid. Their eyes were fierce. Their hearts were hungry for more blood and retribution. But, no more Lirans emerged. The attack was over... for now. Brosia turned to the two who were almost dead beside her. With that boot print to the skull, they would certainly have a collective headache if they didn't die.  
  
The Druid walked over to their limp bodies as they lay and cried in agony. She delivered a powerful stomp to one's groin, causing him to scream deafeningly. As he writhed on the ground, she again positioned her booted foot to strike again. "I can make this last forever... if you don't tell me why you attacked us," she hissed, still with a deadly fire in her eyes. She then leaned down, hoisting the animorph by his neckline. "Tell me!" she roared.  
  
Heni stood up from behind a large potted plant by the wall. "Ambrosia, no! Show mercy!" she instructed.  
  
Brosia scowled at Heni, dropping the animorph like a bag of trash as she stood. "I'm simply trying to decipher why... when we were here only to negotiate a so-called peaceful treaty, did we become the victims of an attack!" Brosia defended angrily.  
  
The prone animorph spat, gargling on his own blood. "The stones," he gasped. "More will strike at you..." he emitted one last violent choke before dying.  
  
Brosia stared at the sole surviving Liran from this escapade as he attempted to crawl away, moaning. She pointed to the empty space where the portal had most likely existed. "Get out of here!" she grumbled. Her eyes again met Heni's. "There. I showed mercy."  
  
...Somewhere within the atmosphere of Helion Prime, the last remaining member of the Furyan race had been piloting his transport, his destination... unknown, until... he was momentarily crippled by that all too familiar sensation. The last two stones were calling him... finally. As the energy randomly surged from within his body and latched onto the transport's instrumentation, sending thousands of added volts forthward, the bald man groaned painfully.  
  
"Alpha," he growled softly to himself. "They're on Alpha."  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Three   
**  
"Benedicto, it isn't safe for you here any longer. You must come back to Dru with us," Heni pleaded.  
  
"I agree," Brosia concurred, folding her arms before the proprietor in a rather insubordinate fashion.  
  
"Where are the stones, lady Druid?" Ben asked anxiously.  
  
Brosia drew back the neckline of her coat, revealing the bright amethyst rhunestone upon her breast. It was dangling by a strong metal chain. She gestured toward Heni. "She bears the onyx stone," Brosia announced.  
  
"You know of the stones?" Heni challenged.  
  
"I know very little," Ben assured. "But they must be of some great value if the Lirans are after them."  
  
"They are of incomprehensible value," Heni whispered. "I've all about them inside the eldest nomicon of the Druids, but I need my interness to decipher the language," she added.  
  
"Which, of course, she hasn't let me read the damned book yet because she continues to claim I'm not ready!" Brosia griped.  
  
"Well, perhaps the gods of the universe have decided on your behalf that now is time," Ben offered. "Where is this nomicon now?"  
  
"Never let it out of my sight. It is aboard our vessel... hidden," Heni replied.  
  
"Then what say you we depart now before more animorphs launch another attack," Ben suggested eagerly.  
  
The ladies nodded.  
  
The Furyan cussed to himself, sensing that the course of direction needed to change. The stones were now en route to the Kaelian Galaxy. Could the bearers not make up their mind? Perhaps, they were in trouble. Perhaps they were in some sort of danger... because of those stones.  
  
He quickly replotted the quickest course that would gain him entrance into the Kaelian. He wasn't sure which planet, but something told him to head for Dru... the dark world. Dru had eight moons and was mostly shielded from the sun. It was his type of planet; he wouldn't need the goggles.  
  
Onboard the Centauri once again, the three passengers were somewhat restless. Ben sat across from Brosia as she leafed through the book... finally, to decipher what appeared to be an ancient Druid prophecy. Heni sat beside her, simply watching.  
  
"It says here that there are twelve of these stones, like the ones the chancellor and I bear. There will be one who collects all twelve. This gains that person access to the galaxy called Edenlair... the Fountain of Life. It goes on to state that the one who collects the stones shall be called Master of Keys, and the Master of Keys is a Furyan male. There is a Guardian of the Gate as well... supposedly the most precious of all beings in the realm. This Guardian of the Gate sort of becomes like the property of the Master of Keys. God, not a job I'd want. But anyway, it gives some kind of name... or timeline here. It mentions A.D.," Brosia commented.  
  
"A.D. in the common tongue means year of our Lord. How vague," Heni mused.  
  
"How indeed," Ben chimed.  
  
"So... how do we get these stones to this... Master of Keys?" Heni asked.  
  
"It says the Master of Keys will come for them, in the time of the stones, whenever that is," Brosia deciphered.  
  
"I thought all Furyan males were murdered... umbilical cords around their necks," Ben pointed out.  
  
"Perhaps one of them survived," Heni posed, knowing this already to be true.  
  
"The one who was meant to master the key to the Fountain of Life," Brosia added.  
  
"Kind of like leading people into the promised land," Heni whispered strangely.  
  
"I wonder who the Guardian of the Gate will be," Brosia pondered.  
  
"Logic would dictate that it is probably a female... representing some sort of mystical union," Ben deduced.  
  
Brosia giggled. "It's probably you, Hannilee!"  
  
They sat back, exchanging a momentary laugh.  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Four   
**  
The Furyan lifted the telecom and spoke with a deep throaty, very masculine voice. "Yeah, this is Lord Marshal Riddick requesting entrance," he barked. He detested using that title, but it was what made him a free man. It carried enough clout to do so.  
  
"Your business in the Kaelian Galaxy?" a raspy male voice interrogated on the other side.  
  
"My business is my own," Riddick gravely retorted.  
  
"Just asking, Lord Marshal. Entrance granted. Your destination?"  
  
"Dru."  
  
"Very well. Dock your vessel on Pier Thirteen off the South mark."  
  
"Copy."  
  
The Centauri had just landed safely on Dru's dark grassy terrain. Being of royalty had its merits for the travelers; they were known and could dock pretty much anywhere they pleased.  
  
As the three companions descended the ramp, they remained engaged in conversation about the Druid book's prophecies.  
  
"What I don't understand is, why would the Lirans want to stop the Master of Keys, when it clearly states that only a Furyan can open the gate?" Ben queried.  
  
"Perhaps they are ignorant of that fact," Heni suggested.  
  
"No, there is something here, but not about Lira," Brosia clarified, reading from the book while she walked. "It talks about Earth actually, and how, if the Earthlings ever learned of the events elsewhere in the universe, they would try at all costs to stop the natural course of events."  
  
"Why?" Ben inquired, somewhat confused.  
  
"Because opening the Edenlair Galaxy is like opening the gates to heaven itself. According to this book, that would bring about Armageddon in the Nexus. It would be the end of Earth," Brosia reported ominously.  
  
"So... since Earth is still considered primitive compared to the other worlds, they might seek the help of a more evolved species to prevent this... Armageddon from happening," Ben figured.  
  
"Yes, but what does Earth have that the Lirans would offer such services to attain?" Heni astutely argued.  
  
Brosia continued to page through the book, shaking her head. "It doesn't say here. Guess that wasn't integral enough to record."  
  
"Always a mystery," Heni sighed.  
  
Riddick was set to dock as instructed, when he suddenly detected the presence of a threatening force around the remaining two stones. On a whim, he retracted the landing gear and overrode the plotted course. He was following the call of the stones.  
  
Brosia's eyes widened as she glanced up at her companions. She quickly closed the book and tossed it to Heni. "Keep it safe!" the young apprentice instructed of her elder mentor. "Give me the stone!" she further demanded.  
  
"Ambrosia, I don't think..." Heni objected.  
  
But then they emerged from behind the three companions... a rather large group of Liran animorphs, and they were out for blood.  
  
"Never mind!" Heni gasped, yanking the chain from her neck and throwing it to the Druid, who then thrust it over her own head with a great might before spinning around to meet her attackers.  
  
"Round Two!" Ben shouted, drawing his loaded blasters once again. Heni took the book and ran fiercely into the darkness that was Dru, while Ben and Brosia took the Liran army by swarm.  
  
As if those two weren't enough, a small transport appeared suddenly upon the horizon, swooping down... bullets flying from beneath. The Lirans were leveled in a matter of seconds. The vessel let up a bit, just missing the castle of the Druid Concillate.  
  
"What in the blazes of Hades is that?" Ben asked, pointing up at the transport.  
  
"My guess would be the Master of Keys," Brosia replied hopefully. She and the proprietor stood gaping at the vessel as it hovered above them.  
  
"I truly don't care what it is, so long as it keeps on helping us," Ben remarked.  
  
They backed up to allow the transport room to land in front of them. They watched in anticipation as the pod bay door opened and a ramp extended to the ground. Neither knew exactly what to expect, other than a Furyan male... at least they hoped.  
  
Brosia caught glimpse of some huge boots stomping downward... attached to a vast set of shins, knees, thighs, and a pelvis that was... positively humongous. The clothing was black, form-fitting. The body was like brick, muscular and austere. His upper torso was gargantuan with rippling muscles that could be seen even through the black clothing that covered his body. Upon his forearms were holsters carrying some crude-looking stabbing weapons. His skin was the color of caramel and didn't appear to sport but one living hair. His head was bald. He was wearing goggles, which he quickly raised upon sight of the Druid ambassador... the stones round her neck exposed.  
  
Ambrosia gasped. His eyes were shining, like silver pools of light. She'd never seen eyes such as his, and she wondered if it was a Furyan trademark or something.  
  
Benedicto instinctively jumped in front of Brosia. "This is not the Master of Keys. He can't be! He was obviously in Slam City!" he asserted protectively.  
  
"I'm looking for the Druid woman who holds my stones," the Furyan announced almost diabolically. Brosia jumped at the sound of his voice... so throaty and deep, and yet so smooth and soothing. Then, she felt her face flush. She couldn't help it... she had to comment.  
  
"I assume you speak of these stones?" she asked slyly, dangling both chains above her chest.  
  
Ben just shook his head and attempted to bury it for a moment. The Druid was assuredly a livewire.  
  
The Furyan snickered. "They're the only stones I'd want a woman to hold," he scoffed.  
  
Not the response she'd been expecting. "Excuse me?" she snapped incredulously.  
  
"Get over yourself," the Furyan barked unemotionally. "It ain't about you."  
  
"How did you know the bearer of the stones would be a Druid woman?" Ben accused warily, still not trusting this chap.  
  
"Uh, because this is Planet Dru and she's the only woman here," the Furyan slurred sarcastically. "Look, I don't need any baggage or stragglers, so just give up the stones already," he demanded.  
  
Brosia took a step back and scoffed to Ben. "THIS is the Master of Keys?" she balked. "How utterly disappointing."  
  
"The what?" the Furyan challenged. "What did you call me? I'm Lord Marshal of the Necromongers. I don't know anything about a key," he quipped.  
  
"Well then perhaps I should explain," Brosia began. "You are Furyan, the last of your kind. There are twelve stones you seek in total. You also seek completion from your counterpart you've yet to meet... known as the Guardian of the Gate..."  
  
"Just how the hell do you know all that shit about me?" the Furyan cross- examined. "I don't know anything about a Guardian of the Gate either," he quickly added.  
  
"Well hopefully this Guardian of the Gate will know you," Brosia placated, seeing the man's temper raise just a hair. "You wish to know more?"  
  
The Furyan blinked ethereally, then pointed behind Brosia. "No time!" he called out. Before Brosia had purchase to spin and face her attackers, the shiv had been hurled straight past her, clean into the chest of a Liran animorph. This one was... quite possibly faster than she. Envy began to consume her. Again, before she could gather her thoughts, she found herself being carried aboard this Furyan's vessel.  
  
"Proprietor!" she reached out for Ben. But the ramp was retracting and Benedicto was left to fend off the approaching animorphs with his blasters.  
  
"Put me down, you... you... Furyan!" Brosia screamed. "He needs my help!"  
  
The Furyan cackled wickedly, dropping the Druid to the floor of the vessel. "Help... from a female? Oh, how rich! What kind of help would that be... stand there and look beautiful while he defends your honor?"  
  
Brosia let out a deafening banshee scream in frustration. "NO! THIS kind of help!" she proclaimed, springing to her feet, wielding the spades at either side. She made a surprising move upon him and managed to catch him off guard. The spade nearly grazed his right shoulder.  
  
Having lost her balance because she wasn't used to missing a target, Brosia spun around and began to lunge at him again, fuming. But, the Furyan's hands were both quick and strong. He grabbed her wrists and threw her hard against the wall of the transport. His body slammed into hers, pinning her in between. He lowered his head. His face was only inches from hers.  
  
They stared upon each other for a few lingering moments. His eyes softened as did the corners of his mouth. He considered her little attack quite adorable, actually. She sniffed deeply, taking in his manly scent. His muscles relaxed against her body, but he refused to let up. He stopped squeezing her wrists so tightly. She could have wiggled out of his grasp had she wanted.  
  
Her body was trembling under his and he shivered upon its soft feel so close to him... so without the companionship of a woman all this time. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, which elicited a grin and gleam in his eye. He cocked a brow at her and made a silly face.  
  
"I've yet to be impressed," he announced flatly, releasing her finally. He sorely hoped she wasn't empathic and could thus sense he was lying profusely.  
  
His hope this day would go unmet, though he would not know it. Ambrosia could spot a liar.  
  
"I need the stones," he again repeated, approaching her as he extended his hand to yank the chains from her throat. But his hand became crippled, as though arthritic, and he began to cower before her, moaning painfully. Apparently, he couldn't just take the stones. Brosia figured they would have to be given freely.  
  
She recalled what the book had said about this earth place meeting its doom if Edenlair was indeed opened. She began to entertain second thoughts. The Furyan was on his knees, trying to regain his composure. He didn't understand why, when she had the perfect opportunity, she didn't strike at him. What was her game?  
  
The Furyan stood again, towering over her. For some reason, Brosia actually wanted to take pity... apologize for attacking him when he'd rescued her from the Lirans. "You have a name, Furyan?" she posed.  
  
"Riddick," he grunted.  
  
"Riddick what?" she pushed.  
  
"Just Riddick," he growled tiredly.  
  
"Fine, be as such," Brosia conceded. She began to walk away, figuring she was now this man's hostage until he could figure out how to attain the last two stones. She flopped down upon one of the roomy cushioned chairs and sighed.  
  
He followed, and stood before her, looming. "Richard Riddick," he snarled softly, taking a seat across from her.  
  
She extended her hand to shake his. "Druid Ambassador Ambrosia Drimes," she greeted. To her surprise, he took her hand delicately and held it for a lingering moment, catching her magnetic green eyes.  
  
"Richard, I can't give you these two stones until I explain everything," she announced regretfully.  
  
"I figured," he gagged, still feeling some shock waves from his earlier experience.  
  
"Before I do, I have to go out there and slaughter a few Liran bastards. Wanna help?" she enlisted.  
  
He stood, again extending his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. Their eyes met again. Quite reflexively, she smiled. She felt him squeeze her hand ever so slightly before letting it go.  
  
"No choice in the matter, Ambrosia. My shiv's in one of their rotting corpses," he acquiesced. "I need it."  
  
They nodded to each other, having agreed to be partners in crime at least for now. They set forth to exit the ship and begin their assault on their unsuspecting attackers.  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Five   
**  
Riddick and Brosia filed out onto the ramp, weapons brandished. Brosia did another pouncing somersault, which placed her inside the belly of the battle, leaving Riddick to wonder how in the hell she'd gotten there. Watching her quick motions as she slew the animorphs left him utterly speechless, and motionless.  
  
She wasn't going to steal the entire show. She had to share the stage. He was, after all, Lord Marshal. That had to stand for something. Riddick reared his single shiv and charged the opposing enemies. Between the spinning, kicking, punching, and slicing, Riddick managed to jolt Ben in the elbow and introduce himself.  
  
"Richard B. Riddick. Lord Marshal of the Necromongers... that I freed," he announced. "You anybody important?"  
  
"Benedicto Califiore, Grand Proprietor of the Alpha System, and yes," Ben snapped haughtily. Who the bloody hell was this idiot, anyway?  
  
"Shall we can the pissing contest and kill these cretins?" Brosia called out, bringing the men back to reality.  
  
"You wanna start acting more like a female and less like Attila the animorph slayer?" Riddick taunted.  
  
"Um, not really," Brosia quipped, gawking at the Furyan as she stilled herself on all fours, launching a back kick into one of the Lirans who'd just gotten to his feet. He toppled over a second time, crashing into another.  
  
"She always upstage everybody like this?" Riddick complained, using Ben's shoulder as a lever to launch his own body up and onto a Liran, crushing him.  
  
Riddick stood his ground, satisfied. "Thanks," he uttered, slapping the proprietor's arm.  
  
Brosia retrieved Riddick's lost shiv and tossed it to him aimlessly, or so she made it seem. It hurled toward his nether regions and he caught it just in time.  
  
"Lose something?" she mocked.  
  
"Yeah, my patience," the Furyan quipped. "We gotta bail. They'll keep coming," he threatened.  
  
"We go nowhere without the chancellor," Ben instructed.  
  
"Great, and where is the chancellor?" Riddick refuted, giving up. These people were highly demanding creatures.  
  
"Right here!" Heni squawked. She was carrying the book and a Druid staff of the elders. She'd obviously taken refuge inside the Concillate building and decided she liked the embellishments too much to leave them behind.  
  
Remembering what little manners he'd learned throughout his escapades in space, Riddick stepped back to allow the others passage first. Holding up the rear, he barreled into the ship and retracted the ramp behind, just as a huge army of Lirans emerged with fireballs ready to hurl. Seeing that their targets had escaped yet again, they secured their revenge by burning down the Centauri while Heni sadly watched from the pod bay.  
  
Ambrosia and Riddick both bolted for the pilot's chair. They collided and fell into it together. Bumbling and fumbling, arms flailing and voices overpowering each other, a small disagreement ensued.  
  
"This is MY ship. I fly it!" Riddick bellowed.  
  
"You don't know the way!" Brosia objected.  
  
"The way to where, Druid?" the Furyan roared, having lost his temper completely now.  
  
"Earth!" Brosia leveled. "We go to Earth."  
  
"WHAT?" Riddick roared. "That's a Neanderthal planet! I ain't goin' there. They can't even space-travel yet! They're subcreatures!" He was beyond furious at this point.  
  
"Subcreatures whose world will be obliterated if I give you these stones!" Brosia wailed fiercely. "Look, Mister Lord Marshal. I am a DRUID. Don't fuck with me!"  
  
Ben gasped. He'd never heard a female use such profanity. "Mind your etiquette, Ambrosia. You are still a woman of propriety in these parts!" he scolded.  
  
Ambrosia pointed to the proprietor. "Go to hell, Ben!" she spat. "You don't know what's at stake... what that bloody books SAYS of the Earthlings' destiny. They've not yet met their full evolutionary potential. You can't just..." she rambled. Then she started to cry, surprising even herself. She was Ambrosia Drimes, tough as nails. She never cried.  
  
"Gah!" Riddick shouted in frustration, slamming his fist against the back of the pilot's chair. "This is insane. I need those stones, woman. Don't you understand? My body kills me a little more with every wave that hits me over these stupid stones. I can't live without them!"  
  
"You truly are the Master of Keys then," Brosia prophesied, having calmed down somewhat. She was still crying.  
  
Ben tried to play peacemaker once again. "Listen, you two. Is there any reason why he cannot have the stones if you aren't going directly to Edenlair?" he reasoned.  
  
"Edenlair?" Riddick butted in. "Edenlair is where the Threshold is. I've been there already!" he insisted. "I brought the Necromongers there... to free them." He too began to calm himself, clearly seeing how upset Brosia had become. She was literally sobbing beside him. Acting again on inexplicable impulse, he drew the woman near and cradled her head against his shoulder, rubbing hers awkwardly.  
  
"Stop," he tried to console. "Stop crying. We'll... we'll figure it out."  
  
Seeing this display and Riddick's attempt to act like a human being warmed the Alphaloid's heart. He approached them. Leaning over, he rolled his eyes and chuckled. He grabbed Riddick's other arm and hoisted it around Ambrosia. He mouthed the words, "hold her" to Riddick, who returned his suggestion with an oddball expression, as though Ben had acquired about fifty heads.  
  
Ben nodded, observing as the awkward Furyan tried to embrace the woman. It had been so long, and under such different circumstances. This one wasn't a common prostitute. She was a person. He was clueless, and Ben could see that.  
  
Riddick found himself even more uncomfortable when she hugged him back. He didn't understand why. He was a man. She was a deathly attractive woman. It should have felt good. It did, but... it was a bit overwhelming. His nerves began to tingle and he grew warm inside, allowing himself to literally melt into her. But he was still on guard. He hated having to deal with emotions, no matter how pleasant they were. They frightened him. What made matters worse was, he had nobody to confide in about his fears.  
  
Her tears had moistened his shoulder. She'd stopped crying. This made him even warmer inside and it scared him further. He felt like he should say something to her. The silence was so awkward it made his skin crawl. Ben didn't seem to think anything of it. He acted as though he condoned it. Riddick could think of only one thing to do or say... yield to her request.  
  
"We'll go to the Nexus Galaxy," he whispered. "We'll go now." Brosia suddenly raised her head and kissed his face. She smiled, standing up from the chair.  
  
Riddick was completely shocked. He hadn't expected this. "Your eyes are beautiful," Brosia complimented sweetly, not sounding at all like herself. She then left him sitting there, stunned.  
  
He then felt the urge to reply, but had no clue what to say. He wanted it to be something nice, but he sucked at etiquette. He didn't want it to sound lewd or sexual either. It wasn't about that. That shocked him even more so. "Hey... Ambrosia?" he heard himself call out with a low growl.  
  
"Yes," she replied from the back of the hull, en route to retrieve the wayward Hannilee.  
  
"Nobody ever said that before," he admitted, "about my eyes."  
  
"Well then they were blind," Brosia cooed.  
  
Riddick lowered his head and shut his beautiful eyes for a moment. He'd admitted to himself that he liked her. He didn't like many people, but she made him feel good. "I'm starting to be impressed," he uttered to himself as he motioned to fire up the ship.  
  
Ambrosia was grinning when she happened upon Heni in the small hallway. She'd heard him.  
  
"What are they doing out there?" she questioned regarding the animorphs.  
  
"They just burnt the Centauri to a bloody crisp," Heni griped. "Just a suggestion. I think we should go."  
  
"We are," Brosia smiled. Their bodies jolted momentarily when the vessel took off, launching into space... destination: Earth.  
  
Heni was clutching the book of prophecies to her chest. She'd figured something out; Brosia could just tell by her mentor's expression.  
  
"What?" Brosia challenged.  
  
"I was thinking... what if A.D. were someone's initials, not a timeline?" she posed sheepishly.  
  
Ambrosia pondered a moment, obviously clueless. Then she gaped, shaking her head. "A.D. Ambrosia Drimes. Shit! I'm the Guardian of the Gate... no, Chancellor. No way. I won't do it. I abdicate!"  
  
Brosia turned to head back into the hull but Heni grabbed her arm. "Why?" the chancellor challenged.  
  
"NO ONE owns me. No one rules me... ever," Brosia asserted firmly.  
  
"That can't be it," Heni nudged. "Something more it must be to ruffle your feathers, Miss Destiny."  
  
Brosia sighed in frustration. "That stupid book says the Master of Keys chooses the Guardian of the Gate, and she becomes the most treasured of all beings."  
  
"So then what's the problem?" Heni queried whimsically. "Think he won't choose you? He already has," she encouraged with a whisper. Brosia looked at her mentor dumbfoundedly. She was literally helpless when it came to matters of the heart... not so unlike her future counterpart. "Brosia, I saw for only a glimpse of time the way he looked at you down there on Dru. He doesn't know it yet, but you are the love of his life, and he, yours." Her smile widened. "Relax."  
  
Brosia glanced into the hull where Riddick and Ben were seated. The ship appeared to be on autopilot. The men were engaged in discussion and yet, Riddick's beautiful eyes managed to find Brosia's in a heartbeat. She nodded and smiled gingerly. He returned the gesture, signaling her to return. Brosia swore her heart would leap out right then and there.  
  
She was fearful of having to explain to the man why she'd wanted to go to Earth, who the Guardian of the Gate was, and why Riddick was so drawn to the stones. She took a deep breath before entering the hull. It was now or never. They had quite a bit of time before reaching Earth. They had about twenty-six light-years of traveling. Ironically, they would pass by the gorgeous Edenlair system en route. She hoped Riddick wouldn't change his mind and forego Earth. They may have been primitive subcreatures, but they deserved the same chance as all races in the universe. Brosia figured she felt a certain kinship with them, since the island Atlantis had been the new home of her people some twelve thousand years prior. They were generous then... she would have to return the favor now.  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Six   
**  
Ambrosia stepped into the hull, trying not to intrude on the guys' conversation, but they were merely engaged in meaningless chit chat at that point. She aimlessly wandered over to them and sat nearby, squinting at the gauges on the control panel.  
  
"Set for Earth?" she asked vacantly.  
  
"We're on our way," Riddick confirmed. He issued Ben a knowing look and the proprietor stood up.  
  
"Allow me to tend to the chancellor, see if she needs anything," Ben mumbled as he left the hull. Riddick and Brosia were now alone.  
  
Riddick gestured to the co-pilot's seat, inviting the Druid to join him. Ambrosia sat facing him. He was quite at ease, sitting back open-legged, elbow resting lazily against the controls. He eyed her rather mysteriously.  
  
"So," he began flatly, reaching over to loudly crack his knuckles, "why are we headed for Earth?"  
  
The dreaded question. Brosia sighed and forced a smile. "I have to tell you other things before I answer that," she explained. "There's a book of Druid prophecies that my mentor asked me to decipher. That's where I learned about the stones. I didn't know what they were for until I read it today. It's all happening so fast."  
  
Riddick swiveled around, his back to the controls. He rested his hands in his lap and stared straight ahead. "I've got the time for you to tell me everything," he offered, sensing he might regret that last statement.  
  
Ben entered the small corridor in search of Heni. He peered into one of the bedchambers and found her resting upright upon a bunk. She bade him to enter and he did so cautiously like a gentleman.  
  
"I'm so grateful you happened to join us," she admonished lightheartedly.  
  
"You are not upset over your ship being destroyed?" Ben asked.  
  
"It's just a ship. Easy to get another in time," Heni validated.  
  
"I'll buy you one," Ben flirted.  
  
Heni raised her brows at him. "And just what are we establishing here, Benedicto?" she sang cheerfully.  
  
Ben neared the bunk, accepting her invitation to sit beside her. "Hopefully a courtship, my dear," he admitted coyly. "The closer I get to death, the more I realize what foolhardy choices I made in my youth."  
  
Heni started to giggle youthfully herself. "I believe we wouldn't be the only courtship," she hinted, flashing her eyes like a teenage gossip queen.  
  
Back inside the hull, Riddick frowned at Ambrosia. "So, you're telling me that this book says the sole surviving Furyan is destined to become this key... guy, who opens up the gates of the afterworld... underverse, with these twelve stones, but opening that gate will destroy Planet Earth because their bible says once the kingdom of heaven is open, time on Earth is over?"  
  
"Basically," Brosia clarified.  
  
Riddick was silent for a few moments. He sighed, shifted in his chair, looking pensive. "That's fucked up," he ascertained blankly. "Now I gotta suffer without the last two damned stones because of some primitive species on some half-dead rock I don't even give a shit about, all because they aren't ready for their world to end." He scoffed to himself. "Well, who's their god anyway? Maybe I can talk to him."  
  
"I don't think it works that way, Richard. Their god isn't one to answer them. I mean, He gives them things on occasion, like cures for disease and such," Brosia expounded.  
  
"Miracles," Riddick presumed. "So he's a silent god, then." He began to fidget around with the controls. "People on Earth have souls?" he questioned vacantly.  
  
"Yes, I believe so," Brosia replied truthfully.  
  
"How accurate is this bible thing of theirs?"  
  
"Most of the planet believes in some variation of it. But I must concede, the Nation of Islam purports that their messiahs will return to Earth in spaceships."  
  
Riddick frowned again. He was remembering something... Imam's beliefs. "What if I just take the stones and don't use them until we figure out what to do with Earth?" he posed.  
  
"I'm pretty sure that can be done. You have yet to select your Guardian of the Gate," she blurted quietly.  
  
"Oh yeah... that whole thing. You said it names you specifically, huh?" he coaxed.  
  
"It gives the initials A.D. and specifies a female further on in the passages," Brosia confessed.  
  
"So... could be you. But it says I gotta choose the person?" Riddick delved.  
  
"That it does," Brosia divulged. "That mystical union plus the stones is what opens the gates of heaven on Nuchil, Eterna, and Eldernest."  
  
"Isn't there a fourth planet in that system... Volcania?" Riddick reminded his well-schooled new friend.  
  
"Volcania is a floating mass unto itself. It isn't really part of Edenlair," Brosia explained.  
  
"They say it's where the River Styx is," Riddick alluded.  
  
"Then it would be akin to what my people call Hades, or the Land of Shadows," Brosia defined.  
  
"Hell," Riddick added to the list.  
  
"What idiot designed the universe anyway?" Brosia sighed.  
  
"Beats the hell out of me, but it's either somebody way smarter than all of us, or somebody with a sick sense of humor," Riddick sneered.  
  
"I'd bet on the latter. Sense of humor's what makes people live longer," Brosia confided.  
  
"Is that the goal?" Riddick asked philosophically. "Is the ultimate goal really to just go on living, or is it to be dead and free? Maybe it's just the freedom to choose between them," he admonished.  
  
Brosia found herself yawning. She quickly apologized, as it wasn't the conversation. "This deep thinking's giving me a headache," she sighed.  
  
"Welcome to my world," Riddick consoled.  
  
"I need a shower. I need sleep. I need clean clothes and all that stuff," Brosia tallied.  
  
"Shower's back there," Riddick pointed toward the end corridor. "Take my bed. I got extra clothes. Y'are kinda bloody."  
  
"I know," Brosia purred, fixing to stand. She began to walk away but thought the better of it. There were things that still kept her mind from resting just yet.  
  
She turned and met his shining eyes. "Were you really in Slam?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah." There was no emotion in his voice.  
  
"Did you do it?"  
  
"Yeah." His tambour had trailed off into a raspy whisper. He was remorseful.  
  
"Why you?"  
  
"Don't know," he shrugged. "Been asking myself that for a long time." He raised his brows and shrugged again. "My turn," he announced. "Let's say I do buy into this whole Master of Keys stuff. If I were to choose you..."  
  
"You'd be miserable," Brosia cut. "Got a real problem with authority, if you hadn't noticed."  
  
"I did. That's why I'd choose you."  
  
Brosia furrowed her brow. "Then I'd have to say I would," she whispered. She felt her face flush as she turned to scamper away.  
  
"Why?" he called out to her.  
  
She stopped in the doorway and hesitated. Not looking back, she responded, "Don't know. Been asking myself that since I met you." She left Riddick to his thoughts, plagued as they were.  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Seven   
**  
The bed was quite roomy and comfortable. Ambrosia allowed herself to sink into its cushioned comfort as she snuggled inside Riddick's blanket. It was filled with his scent. Her hair was still a bit damp from the shower. She was wearing his boxers and tank. Granted, they were a little loose on her but she didn't care. She was clean again and no longer had the blood of slain animorph scum on her person. She was drifting in and out of sleep when she sensed Riddick entering the room. He used a great amount of stealth, but her damned senses were too keen. Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked. She'd been lying on her side.  
  
Ambrosia rolled over onto her back, her head still turned toward him. Her damp hair had frizzed and was clinging to her face and scalp. She smiled. He stood in the doorway as though waiting to be invited into his own quarters. He was holding a steaming mug. "Thought you might want this. I always use it for headaches," he spoke calmly.  
  
"Yes, thank you," Brosia croaked. He moved toward her then handed her the piping mug of mystery. She took a sniff.  
  
"It ain't poison if you're wondering," Riddick jeered.  
  
"I wasn't... I mean, I was wondering what it was," Brosia stammered.  
  
"Ancient Furyan secret," Riddick joked flatly.  
  
Brosia giggled then took a few sips. The pressure in her temples immediately began to alleviate. She raised her brows and smiled. "The Druids don't even have anything this powerful," she admitted.  
  
"Yeah well, when you've had as many hangovers as I did in my earlier days, you learn fast what works and what's bullshit," he commented, then quickly added, "not that I think your... Druid potions are bullshit."  
  
Brosia's smile deepened. He had actually made an attempt at considering her feelings. Perhaps there was hope within this lone Furyan soul. Brosia noticed he'd showered; he smelled of soap and just plain clean skin. He was wearing different cargo attire; she wondered when he'd snuck in to fetch it. She hadn't remembered truly falling asleep.  
  
She invited Riddick to sit at the edge of the bed while she finished the ancient Furyan secret that was doing her headache absolute wonders. She guzzled the rest quickly then handed him the mug, nodding in gratitude. Then she removed both chains from her neck... the chains bearing the amethyst and onyx stones. She handed them over freely.  
  
"I believe these belong to you," she declared.  
  
Riddick hesitantly accepted them, gripping the stones in his large palm. It seemed to be a total non-event, until... his hand started glowing. Then out of nowhere, it looked as though an invisible shockwave struck him, hurling his body clean off the bed and into the wall behind. He fell to the ground with his legs outstretched. From inside his body came large surges of some kind of energy; it appeared electrical in nature. Brosia jumped onto her haunches and backed up against the headboard of the bunk, gasping. She was speechless and quite helpless. Riddick was convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Brosia wanted to do something, but she couldn't move. She was paralyzed. Her larynx was frozen in time, it seemed, and she couldn't even cry for help.  
  
Trailing behind in space, at a safe enough distance and cloaked from Riddick's ship as it drifted out of the Kaelian's borders, a spying vessel that contained a group of nine Lirans followed suit. These Lirans were somewhat different in appearance. They were not animorphs, which meant they could not teleport between planes. They had a name... this collection of nine. They had once been normal Lirans, but their overwhelming desire for the stones had corrupted them. They controlled the animorphs, but they were something more. They were the nine rhuneraiths who'd vowed to their dark lord that they would recover the stones at all costs. Just as the stones had called their destined bearer, the stones also called the raiths.  
  
_(Sorry, I just thought it would be so much cooler to have my space-age version of the Nasgul in this. LOL)  
_  
The leader, who was known only as Drow, mumbled something to the others in their native language about having to do something oneself if it needed be done. Drow then cussed out the dead animorphs for having failed twice now. Suddenly, all nine occupants of the Liran craft jumped with a jolt, then released a collective ear-piercing screech. They'd sensed the power of the stones... in the Furyan. He had newly acquired the last two.  
  
Back on Riddick's ship, the energy surges had begun to die down. However, their random placement had increased. As volts shot toward Brosia she quickly launched herself out of the way, knowing she needed to avoid these, whatever they were. When all was once again calm in the room and Brosia had regained her wits, she immediately went to Riddick's side where he lay upon the floor. He was reeling a bit, but seemed to be coming around quickly, as though he were quite used to these seizures.  
  
"Richard, can you hear me?" Ambrosia asked with concern.  
  
Riddick nodded slightly. Still clutching the stones in his hand, he looked severely at Brosia. Something had been revealed to him.  
  
"What is it?" she questioned.  
  
"We are hunted not because of Earth, but because there are literal monsters who seek these stones. There are nine of them. They follow us now," he recited strangely, as though someone else were speaking through him. It was Riddick's voice, but the words... the words were too poetic for him.  
  
"What follows us?" Brosia whispered anxiously. "Lirans?"  
  
Riddick eyed her deadly with a chill. "Rhuneraiths."  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Eight   
**  
The Imam-Kyra drifted uneventfully past the hub of the Galaxy Edenlair. Riddick was resting... something he rarely ever did, but the seizures had tired him so. This last one had been quite taxing on the Furyan's body. Ambassador Drimes had assumed control of the transport during Riddick's down time. The proprietor sat with Riddick in the bedchamber to ensure his safety and administer First Aid were Riddick to become comatose.  
  
Chancellor Grenroix and the ambassador were together in the hull. The chancellor was attempting to establish contact with Earth via the long-port telecom system.  
  
"Benedicto assured me that Earth has recently discovered how to break the sound barrier effectively and transmit messages in the common tongue beyond the speed of sound, so that whatever they have to say doesn't take light- years of travel distance," Heni remarked. "I'm attempting to speak to their person in charge... this SETI group. I was told his name is Mohammad Terron LeFay. He represents the Nation of Islam as well as SETI, and from what Benedicto tells me, this Mister LeFay insisted upon being the contact person," she added.  
  
"I wonder why," Brosia pondered aloud.  
  
"Something about the great war between Muslims and Christians," Heni replied mysteriously. "You're the diplomat, dear. What shall you wish to convey to this LeFay man?"  
  
Brosia thought a moment. "Tell him... express to him just who we are, a group of extra-terrestrials traveling with an ambassador... a Druid ambassador to Earth. Tell him we have a matter of grave importance to discuss and we wish to prevent the end of their world, while finding a way to fulfill our mission," she dictated.  
  
"Wait a moment... translating to Digital Binary," Heni informed the Druid.  
  
"That what all those ones and zeros are?" Brosia laughed.  
  
"Anything else you feel needs to be said?" Heni inquired.  
  
Brosia frowned. She was wondering why, all of a sudden, her mentor no longer found it necessary to tell her what to say or do.  
  
"Actually, I do have something else to say. But what's with putting me in charge now?" she interrogated warily.  
  
Heni stopped transmitting and looked at her interness. "You're ready for the trials now. But, it looks as though they will never take place for you... at least not on Dru. You've a much more important destiny, Ambrosia, if you are to be Guardian of the Gate, and I believe you are." She paused a moment, looking nostalgic... almost remorseful. "I hereby relinquish authority of you and send you forthwith unto the universe to fulfill that destiny."  
  
Ambrosia gasped, then sighed. This was her moment of release. It was not the denouement she'd expected it to be. She'd never doubted herself before. Now was the first time.  
  
She cleared her throat, nodding to Heni. "In that case, I believe we should establish a secret landing site so that these Earthlings do not become upset or feel threatened by our presence. Benedicto mentioned an Area 51. Ask Mister LeFay about this," she ordered.  
  
"Wait... something's coming back to us," Heni interjected. "It is digital. I'll need a moment to decode."  
  
They watched the numbers tally down the screen as Heni transcribed them. In the common tongue, they read, "You will not be granted access. Your fight is not about our planet. If you are going on the teachings of the King James Christian bible, you have been misinformed. We wait for Elijah Mohammad, not your group of people. We know the truth. Only after our war on Earth with the Christians has been resolved, are we allowed to partake of the kingdom, and the pending thousand years of peace. Feel free to open your gates. Our time is not yet due. When it is, the kingdom will come to us, for Earth is the Nexus planet. End transmission."  
  
"Great! What do we do now?" Brosia whined.  
  
"You are the ambassador," Heni again reiterated.  
  
"They are engaged in some religious war down there. I don't know what to do. Their political structure has gone so astray over the past few thousand years. I am not skilled enough to barter or offer anything to them," she lamented.  
  
"It seems clear to me that they don't want our help and furthermore, there was speak of this war needing to have some sort of resolution before Earth can even gain access to the gates," Heni surmised. "Sometimes, Ambrosia, though we know more than our brethren, we must allow them to set their own course of destiny."  
  
"You mean, allow innocent people to perish because of some religious disagreement when we... the damned near omniscient of the universe, know that both sides are flawed in their beliefs?" Brosia debated.  
  
"I think that is precisely the answer," Heni suggested sadly.  
  
"It doesn't seem fair. Earth was home to my ancestors when they were banished from Dru in the days of b.c."  
  
"Ambrosia, let their gods intervene. We've offered assistance and they have refused."  
  
"Hannilee..."  
  
"No, Ambrosia. Perhaps this IS Earth's destiny. Interference would only hinder yours and Lord Marshal Riddick's."  
  
"So I expend some eight billion lives and destroy an entire species of life, in order to spare those of a few trillion in the universe?"  
  
"I do believe I relinquished my authority over you. Such are the kinds of decisions you will be forced to make, as a universal ambassador."  
  
Brosia's eyes began to tear. For the first time ever, she was witnessing the dilemma of truly being an adult, and fairly alone in the universe. Her heart felt so heavy she swore it would explode inside her chest. She wanted to weep for Earth. She took pity on its inhabitants... so full of potential, having evolved so quickly in only a few thousand years. Yet, their ways were still so barbaric in many instances... especially when it came to their clinging to warped religious beliefs, and volunteering to die for them.  
  
"You cry for your own feelings of guilt, not for them," Heni deduced. "It is my understanding that they had their chance. They had ample time to prove their ability to evolve into what we are. They have not. Ambrosia, even with your own barbaric war tactics, you've learned only to strike when survival is an issue. Think of this as such. Survival of the fittest."  
  
Brosia had never seen this cold side of the Lady Grenroix before. It troubled her deeply. It made no sense. Yet, she knew it was a truly integral part of her former mentor. All of her training had been undergone for this moment, Brosia believed.  
  
"Brosia, you cannot risk venture into Earth now, now that I know what hunts us. They will follow the stones wherever you take them, and if they follow us to Earth, they will attack there. Earth will be defenseless." The voice of the proprietor caused both women to jump as they were startled by it. Benedicto had been listening to their discussion from the hull's entry point. He entered solemnly, his eyes fixed on the ambassador's.  
  
"Riddick is awake. He was speaking in tongues. When he finally came to, he asked me to tell you that," Ben continued. "He has ordered you to replot the course and head straight for Eterna, the heart of Edenlair. The gates shall be opened."  
  
"Earth," Ambrosia sobbed. "They're already defenseless. They will be alone in their fight..." she protested.  
  
"No. They will not be. I have on good authority that Allah and Jehovah are attempting to negotiate a treaty of sorts," Ben reported.  
  
"Treaty? How odd a term. I thought there was only one god of Earth," Heni glowered.  
  
"Well, there is... it is the same god that cares for all of us in the universe. It is the Lifeforce, Lord of the Threshold. But Earth is too primitive to understand that, so the Lifeforce has decided to present Itself as more than one being... seek out prophets of that world and speak to them on their terms, so that they may speak in tongues to all the people," Ben replied.  
  
"And Riddick told you all of this?" Brosia challenged.  
  
"He's asking for you, Guardian," was Ben's cryptic, yet hopeful reply.  
  
"Ben, Heni... I am SO not prepared for this," Brosia complained. "Bad enough I have to sit by idly and watch as a whole world perishes. What you say about this Lifeforce... it scares me," she added.  
  
"Talk to Riddick," Ben encouraged again.  
  
Brosia sighed as more tears stained her pale cheeks. "I'll not replot any course. We're going to Earth. If the rhuneraiths and the animorphs follow, we'll simply have to battle them AND find a way to end this ridiculous war they engage in!" she announced. "If I am Guardian of the Gates of heaven, I know instinctively that my destiny, albeit however dangerous it may seem, is to ensure eternal life for ALL, even the primitive ones. Unless the Lifeforce Himself tells me otherwise, we hold steady on our course into the Nexus," she concluded.  
  
Having said her powerful piece, Brosia left the hull en route to convince Riddick of the same.  
  
**Glades of Edenlair  
  
Nine   
**  
Brosia stepped into the bedchamber where she found Riddick upright upon his bunk, where she'd lain only hours prior herself. She shut the door.  
  
"We have a problem here," she broached softly, not wanting to evoke any of the temper she knew he harbored.  
  
Riddick stared straight ahead of him, his eyes distant. The two rhunestones round his neck were glowing dully. He acted as though he were paying her no mind.  
  
"Did you hear me, Richard?" she pressed.  
  
"Did you replot the course?" he cooed coldly, still gazing at the wall in front of him.  
  
"No," she admitted. "I can't, and I won't. You can't make me, because you haven't selected me as the Guardian of the Gate. Now, I hope you don't, if obliterating billions of lives is what..."  
  
"Save it, Ambrosia," Riddick snapped. "You can't possibly know or understand what I saw in my last vision with that seizure. You do it my way... do you understand?" he interrogated vacantly.  
  
"I understand plenty, Richard. I understand that I bore the amethyst upon my breast for a good hundred years and it never twisted my mind the way the stones have yours," Brosia argued.  
  
Then Riddick turned to her. "Hasn't it? I beg to differ. You were a cold- hearted, egocentric warrior until you gave the stones to me. Now, you've suddenly grown a heart? Check yourself. You're the one's out of balance," he growled.  
  
"If you would just listen to reason..."  
  
Riddick literally flew out of the bed and nearly sacked the woman. He grabbed her forcefully by her shoulders and lifted her up so that they were eye-to-eye.  
  
"Richard, you're hurting me!" she yelped. But it were as though all logic and reason had left him. His eyes shone fiercely and cold. He was like a machine.  
  
"You dare contradict what the Lifeforce has revealed to me?" he snarled devilishly.  
  
"Oh gods, the stones have made you insane!" Brosia cried.  
  
At the moment she managed to free one of her hands and start pulling at the two chains upon his neck, Riddick roared the words she truly did not want to hear. His voice didn't even sound like his own anymore. It was even more primal and deeper... like many voices at once, and it terrified her.  
  
"Ambrosia Drimes, I choose you as Guardian of the Gates..."  
  
The stones broke free of his neck as the chains snapped off. Brosia clutched them as she felt her body levitate and be winged by an unseen force into the wall. The power of the stones gathered inside her palm and dispersed throughout her body, sending myriads of small electroshock waves coursing through her veins. She held onto the stones for dear life.  
  
Before her eyes came a strong vision... of her and Riddick together inside a ring of fire. From above there was a light source and a powerful voice. It was pronouncing and proclaiming their mystical union. The time was not now... it was ageless, old, before time was even time. The sky was blue. The grass and brushes around the fire ring were green and they were amid the most lush forest ever imagined. There was a glorious tree bearing red apples in her line of vision, and from one of the branches dangled a hideous-looking snake... a serpent.  
  
In her vision, Ambrosia was holding what looked to be a human rib... a man's rib. She was giving it to Riddick, whispering that she didn't need it to survive, didn't need it to be created, for she already was.  
  
She became distracted by the serpent's voice... a serpent that spoke. "Welcome to Re'verse," it hissed. "That is exactly what you must do... reverse what was done."  
  
"They have but one chance, one LAST chance I give them this day because of your brevity, Eve. Undo the evil and they will be permitted inside the Gates," the voice of the light source commanded harshly.  
  
Ambrosia's field of vision became clear once again and she was staring upon Riddick, who'd knelt before her, calling her name endlessly.  
  
"Brosia... I couldn't help it," he kept repeating. "They took me over and I fought it so hard not to kill you," he whispered fearfully.  
  
"What took you?" she asked meekly.  
  
But Riddick did not answer her. He instead cradled her tired body in his arms and carried her to the bed. "Now you know what the visions feel like," he stated blankly. "You saw the union, didn't you?"  
  
"I saw... something I don't understand, and it can't possibly be true," Brosia stammered. "The Lifeforce. It called me... Eve."  
  
Riddick sat beside her where she lay. He took her hand, acting so differently now from how he'd been only moments ago. "We're bound now, you and I," he growled. "I made my choice. Now you are obligated to honor my word."  
  
"If your word is that we don't go to Earth..." she began.  
  
"We don't," Riddick insisted. "There's nothing you can do to change that now. I own you. That's the prophecy."  
  
Brosia, remembering the words of the Lifeforce and Its orders to her specifically, held up the two remaining rhunestones, gripping them so tightly she drew blood against her palm.  
  
"Not as long as I still hold these," she spoke bluntly. "I was wondering why these two were so special... so powerful. I think I know. They are the union stones. Without them, there is no union. So back the fuck off. I'm going to Earth, with or without you."  
  
"Brosia," Riddick addressed abrasively. He gripped her wrists with a strong force, but not an evil one... not this time. "I forbid it," he snarled.  
  
"Why?" she challenged arrogantly, her own patience having been tried enough.  
  
"MY vision," he spat back right on cue. "In it, you died, and because we are destined to be bound, because we've been bound forever, I died too... but I don't care about that. In my vision, you missed the Threshold and you were lost forever," he whispered.  
  
Brosia then sat up and took Riddick's face in her hands. "I'll be back," she squeaked tearfully, trying her best to sound confident. With that, she drew him into her surprising, albeit truly heavenly, kiss. Their lips parted and she was shedding a river of tears. "You don't know it yet, Richard, but you love me."  
  
Those were her last spoken words to him, for she wriggled her way loose from his embrace and took off bolting down the corridor, toward the location of the escape pod.  
  
Riddick was stunned, and quite paralyzed. The Guardian of the Gate had disobeyed a direct order from the Master of Keys, and he wasn't even angry. He just wanted her back. His body was already aching over the loss, and she hadn't even left yet. He kept telling himself to stop her, but he couldn't. He couldn't because he knew, deep down, she was right. With or without him, she was determined to save the primitive planet.  
  
"Why is the escape pod hatch open?" Heni asked of Ben, who simply shrugged.  
  
"I am sure I don't know, but I intend to find out," Heni replied desperately. She left the hull and ran swiftly down the corridor, bellowing for either Brosia or Riddick. It was Riddick who finally answered.  
  
"In here, Chancellor," his weak voice beckoned. Heni flung open the bedchamber door to find a frozen Riddick standing inside. "She's on her way there," he said sorrowfully, barely above a whisper. "We have no choice but to go to Earth now. The separation... is killing me."  
  
"What? Riddick, what went on in here?" Heni demanded.  
  
"The Glades. The sprites of this galaxy that hold it captive until the gates are opened... they called me," he explained.  
  
"Glades? Riddick, they are like the... the assassins of the Angelia species. You must have done something horribly wrong to get their attention..."  
  
"They go everywhere. They travel through Under'verse," he rambled onward.  
  
Ben came floundering in, his arms flailing. It was highly unusual to see a man of his stature so flustered. "Somebody who knows how to command a ship better get back to the hull. We've got incoming... Lirans!" he shouted.  
  
"Riddick! Get a hold of yourself and fly this ship NOW!" Heni screamed. Heni and Ben each took one of Riddick's arms and practically dragged him up the corridor as he continued to mumble about Under'verse and its denizens.  
  
When they'd reached the hull, Heni noticed on the radar tracking screen the small escape pod drifting farther away from the Imam-Kyra. Then the uncloaked Liran vessel appeared on the screen. As it turned out, it wasn't en route to attack the bigger ship. It was tracking Brosia... and the two stones. Shots were blasted... three direct hits. The pod was in immediate distress.  
  
"Gravity field," Ben whispered in terror. "She's going down... getting sucked into Volcania's atmosphere."  
  
"Guess we change our plans after all," Riddick grunted, his eyes aimlessly glued to the screen.  
  
"He can't pilot a ship right now!" Ben objected.  
  
"Will you dive into the depths of the hell planet to fetch that which makes you whole, Lord Marshal?" Heni asked.  
  
"Anybody have a recipe for ghosting rhuneraiths?" Riddick half-laughed, ignoring the chancellor's inquiry.  
  
"They are quasi-dead. If anyone would know, I would suspect you would, Lord Marshal," Benedicto assuaged to no avail.  
  
Riddick stared blankly at the screen as he mindlessly replotted a course for Volcania, in direct suit of the small, defenseless escape pod carrying the one... the one he might actually feel that emotion for someday... love.  
  
"I don't think I ever said it to you two before, so I'm saying it now. Don't call me Lord Marshal. My name is..." he faltered. He'd intended to say call him Riddick. But something about that now seemed so false... so... not human, just a last name and nothing else.  
  
"My name is Richard," he said finally, "and out there, about to crash into the fires of that planet is the woman that I... my Ambrosia," he stammered. "Let's roll."  
  
"I almost pity the rhuneraiths now," Ben admitted. "They know not what force comes to vanquish them."  
  
"But I do," Richard retorted faintly, "and her name is Riddick... Ambrosia Drimes-Riddick."  
  
**The End... for now. Love, Misty  
**  
_Notes: Riddick's ending statement embodies his earlier comment to Ambrosia that, if she had been the type to obey, he never would have wed her spiritually. It is a subtle hint at Riddick's adventuresome nature. The fact that he addressed himself as "Richard" instead of just Riddick, signifies his slow metamorphosis into someone more human. Finally, the obvious Adam/Eve vision experienced by Ambrosia was a metaphor used to describe hers and Riddick's true importance in the universe and Under'verse. It was not intended as literal.  
_


End file.
